Psychonauts: Mind Games
by DigitalFruitBomb
Summary: A psychic war is quickly approaching Whispering Rock Academy. This goes unnoticed by the students, who are too busy trying to fight with their own damaged psyches, while Mikhail and Maloof try and fight their feelings for each other.
1. Chapter 1

A/n: Hey guys, long time no see. I'm back with a new story, and for the record, I have not abandoned Well It All Started With A Hat. I just haven't had any inspiration for it yet. It'll come someday, just give it time. If you're here because of an author alert, I still encourage you to read this story anyway. Psychonauts is an excellent game with a unique storyline and hilarious moments. If you haven't played it and would like to read up on it, I recommend looking at the Psychopedia on Double Fine's website. For those of you who have played Psychonauts, sit back, relax, and enjoy this story.

Warning: Mild language, some suggestive humor, and eventual SLASH. The rating may or may or may not go up as this story progresses, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: I do not own Psychonauts or any of its affiliates, and do not make any money off of writing this story.

* * *

Chapter One: Of Nail Guns and Fire

_Thunkthunkthunk._

Maloof Canola sighed, staring up at the ceiling of his dorm room. How Bobby Zilch smuggled a nail gun into his cave of death evaded him completely. What he did know was that Bobby was intent on using it to his full advantage. By sending a never-ending hailstorm of _thunks_ directly his way.

_Thunkthunkthunk._

What bothered Maloof even more was that Bobby strategically placed the nails to optimize irritability, even changing up the rhythm and succession in which they came. The only thing Bobby put that much brain power into was struggling to comb his hair in the morning.

_Thunkthunkthunkthunk._

Maloof groaned and offered a weak plea for ceasefire. It failed to go over well.

A muffled but clearly distinct voice immediately replied.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME, PUNK?"

_Thunkthunkthunk._

"Yeah, what did you say to boss, uhm, punk!"

"DAMMIT BENNY! What did I tell you?"

"Sorry, boss. Hey, hey, why are you pointing that at me? Boss? Boss, put it down. Put that down. Oh god I'm sor-"

"YOU._" Thunk. "_STUPID._" Thunk. _"STUPID." _Thunk. _"STUPID."_ Thunk. _"PIECE OF SHIT."_ Thunkthunkthunkthunkthunk._

Mild screaming and sobbing pleas to be removed from the wall ensued.

Maloof let out a burst of frustration, throwing the book he was trying to read across the room. It was useless trying to study. He knew there was no point in going to the library. Bobby would follow him anyway, and with enough prodding and antagonizing, would reduce Maloof into a teary-eyed pathetic lump in front of everyone. Like usual.

He grabbed his iPod and threw himself on his bed. Seconds later Benny's screaming was drowned out and replaced by melodic wailing that Maloof could actually tolerate.

All he wanted was for Mikhail to come back. Mikhail's insistence on an evening romp with the psychic bears often left Maloof alone for at least a couple hours. And more importantly, at his most vulnerable. Maloof didn't like depending on Mikhail for everything, especially since he needed to become independent now more than ever.

It had been six years since Raz had recranialised him and his peers. Word had gotten around four years ago, he and the other agents managed to save Lili's father, head of the Psychonauts. Who had kidnapped him and any other information about the rescue was strictly denied by the school faculty.

Maloof let a smile ghost over his lips for a few seconds. That was back when Whispering Rock Summer Camp still existed. Right around the time of the rescue, the kids were told they would not be coming back to camp. Instead, about a year and a half later, the same kids from camp, plus a few new ones received letters inviting them to Whispering Rock Academy: a "prestigious new psychic boarding school that melds general education and psychic abilities together to successfully equip you for a mentally-secure future." Maloof knew that was really just pompous jargon for "this is what we threw together with some funding at the last minute, but it looks pretty, doesn't it?" He wasn't in the mood to vent about that right now. All he knew was that the government wanted these kids transformed into full-blown Psychonauts as soon as possible. For what reason, Maloof didn't know, but it left him nauseated at night. Especially since he started having visions…

The door suddenly flung open and a dark figure stood in the doorway. Maloof, startled, screamed and threw his iPod across the room before hiding under the covers. He really needed to stop doing that.

The figure drew closer into the room and revealed itself to be a rather tall young man.

"Boss! Boss? Is Misha. Come out from under covers."

Maloof threw the covers off and sat up on the bed.

"Thank god, Mikhail. Do you know how long I had to sit here and listen to Mr. 'I'm really cool 'cause I have a gun' nail Benny to a wall?"

Mikhail, chuckling slightly, picked up the abused iPod and sat down next to him.

"Well, for record, iPod will not stop big bully. It bounce off, like this," Mikhail explained, repeating Maloof's previous actions on himself.

Maloof blushed and looked at his hands, slightly embarrassed. His iPod had more of a chance of harming a foe than his small, weak fists did. At least there was still the off-chance his tears corroded skin, or his high-pitched wails of distress shattered ear drums or…

"Boss?"

"What? Oh, sorry. I guess I spaced out a little. Hey, your hand," Maloof noticed a small gash on Mikhail's left palm.

Mikhail waved him off. "Is nothing."

"No it's not. You're bleeding. You don't have to be a tough-guy all the time, you know."

Maloof leaned over the side of the bed and dug out a small first-aid kit from underneath. It came in handy when Bobby felt that verbal abuse wasn't enough.

"Well, I am tough-guy, you know. Only wimps would cry over cut like this."

Maloof grabbed some gauze and began to wrap Mikhail's hand.

"I'd cry over a cut like this…"

"Exactly, only wimps."

"Be quiet. You've come back with bruises before, but never cuts. The bears never wanted to actually hurt you right? So what's up?"

"It is true. The bears are my brothers. They wish me no real harm, however, there was strange occurrence today in woods."

"Strange occurrence?"

"Yes, near GPC, while wrestling bear, I feel vibration from underneath the ground. Almost as if there is some sort of psychic power behind it. Vibration becomes so great, bear becomes frightened."

"So basically there was an earthquake, right?"

"Yes, basically. Nothing to worry about, I guess."

The Italian finished wrapping his friend's hand and put the kit away.

The taller boy flexed his hand experimentally. "Excellent job, tiny boss. You will make good housewife someday."

Maloof flared red and elbowed the laughing Russian in the side.

"Geez, way to exploit my femininity there."

"Your what?"

"Nevermind, I'm thirsty. Let's hit the lounge."

On the way out, the pair heard a faint crying noise.

"Oh god, someone get me down. My underwear is so far up my ass crack…Bobby? Is that you?"

"We should probably get him down…"

Mikhail was hesitant, but guided the giant hand of telekinesis to un-nail the small boy from the wall. They heard a loud thud as Benny hit the ground. More sobbing ensued moments later.

"Why, tiny boss? He laughs while you cry."

"I don't know. Sometimes I think I empathize with him. I mean, we're both big cry-babies, and Bobby doesn't exactly treat either of us well. Benny just doesn't have anyone else to follow around. Bobby's the only who doesn't tell him to get lost, even if he does treat him like crap. You have to admire Benny's determination for Bobby's approval. All he's looking for is someone that cares about him. And I think on some level, nailing Benny to a wall is just Bobby's way of showing affection."

Mikhail simply nodded.

"Boss?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Misha learns new things about you every day."

Maloof flustered.

"W-What's that supposed to mean? Is this a Russian thing?"

Mikhail simply smirked.

"Perhaps."

* * *

The Whispering Rock Student Lounge was just about the only interesting thing at the academy thus far. It had spirit and décor that would have made Mia Vodello proud, and a color scheme that would drive Sasha Nein to manly tears. Kids grouped around chatting under the colorful light displays and gently swayed their hips to the bass-heavy mixtapes provided by the musical styling of The Firestarters. Bean bag chairs levitated while soda cans floated aimlessly around the room, begging to be picked up.

Maloof reached up and grabbed the can of orange soda hovering above him and took the usual spot on the pink sofa in the corner. Mikhail followed suit.

"Why such girly color?" He asked.

Maloof opened his can and glared at Mikhail.

"It's not cause of the color, it's just the farthest away from everybody else," he replied before taking a gulp.

That statement was only half-true. Maloof actually did like pink. Not that he would tell anyone else that.

"Enjoying the music, guys?"

Leaning over the back of the couch was Phoebe Love. Maloof genuinely liked Phoebe. She was kind to just about everyone. Her appearance changed a lot in the last six years. Two years ago she started getting into the Cyber-Goth scene. As her love for the music grew, so did her eccentric fashion tastes. She grew out her black hair and dreaded it, adding in some neon green here and there. Gone were her trademark headphones, replaced with green goggles that sat atop of her head. When she and Quentin started dating, he gifted her these. Costing him just about everything he had, they were made with pure Psitanium and contained most of Phoebe's pyromaniacal tendencies. It was important to include "most". Dressing nowhere near as drastically as she used to, she took to wearing jeans and t-shirts of her favorite music groups. But no matter how much her appearance changed, Maloof knew that she'd always be the sweet, pyromaniacal drummer that wanted you to tell her your problems.

Mikhail shrugged, obviously not impressed.

"Not like music in Russia. Is alright. What do you call this music here in America?

"EBM. Electronic Body Music, the best of the best. Haven't you ever heard of Diffuzion where you're from? Anyway, I wanted to tell you guys I'm hosting a group tomorrow in Katz's room where people can come in and talk about their problems and stuff. I've been learning new techniques with psychic healing and I wanted to try them out, I mean, if that's cool with you guys."

Mikhail snorted. "Problem? I have no problem. Why you think I have problem? Is because I am drink too much? I am alcoholic to you?"

Maloof kneaded his temple, clearly embarrassed. "I'm sorry about him, Phoebe. It's just-"

Phoebe let out a small shriek as Nils Lutefisk strolled by and slapped her on the ass.

"Hey Phoebe, looking pretty _hot_ today, babe, if I do say so myself or maybe, _smokin'_ if you prefer." He called, making his way over to a small circle of girls.

"What's that smell?" One of them asked.

"Oh my god, Nils! Your hair is on fire!"

Nils frantically bat at his hair, flames growing rapidly from his misuse of hairspray and gel.

A soda can was opened and dumped on his head. The flames went out with an audible _tsss_. Defeated, Nils retreated out of the lounge.

Maloof found the scene incredibly amusing. Phoebe winked at him, then turned to Mikhail.

"Anyway, maybe I could help with the fact that you dropkick everyone that even looks at you or Maloof the wrong way. And maybe I could help this little sweetheart here," She turned back to Maloof, "not to break down into tears every time someone picks on him."

He blushed again, thinking he could have broken down into tears right then and there. Did everyone really think of him as just a big crybaby?

"I try same thing. Every day, I say, 'Maloof, I teach you way of the bear. You spill blood of ingrates that bother you.' He just look at me stupidly."

"I don't wanna kill them! I just want them to leave me alone. That's all," He scoffed.

Phoebe ruffled the mess of brown curls on his head.

"Look, just come in tomorrow after your classes, okay? I want to help you. I want to help everyone. It's in their best interest. I mean, I keep having these visions of war. A psychic disaster. If all hell breaks loose, then it's probably best we don't have a war of our own going on in here," She said, finger pointed to her head.

With that, she took off into the crowd to find Quentin.

Mikhail simply shook his head.

"Wow, and I thought American girl stupid."

"Phoebe's Dominican."

"Whatever. I am bear wrestler, not scholar."

Phoebe was right, thought. Like Maloof, she saw the approach of something bigger. Something that would involve them directly and force them to use all of their psychic strength and concentration, should it ever approach. How would Maloof be able to fight if he couldn't even look his worst enemy in the face without sobbing?

He felt himself crush the empty soda can in his hands.

"Mikhail, we're going to see Phoebe tomorrow. I'm done being a coward."

"Good, good. I make you Russian protein shake for breakfast and take you to gym. You like rat intestines?" Mikhail asked, before breaking down into hysterical laughter.

"…I'm going to bed."

"So that's a yes, then?"

* * *

Maloof walked back the dorm room by himself, high on adrenaline and anger. He was tired of looking like a gigantic wuss in front of everybody. And he was sick of everyone offering sympathies and the tears that stained his clothes. But most of all, it cut him inside knowing that he would never be anything more than a weak, pathetic loser in his best friend's eyes.

So caught up in his thoughts and the sounds of his angry footsteps, he didn't realize the door fly open.

"HEY STUPID! You wanna keep it-Oh, well look what the stupid dragged in, stupid."

Did that even make any sense?

"I'm not in the mood, Bobby."

Bobby drew out of his room, nail gun in hand.

"You think I care if you're in the mood or not, stupid? I'll show you how to get in the mood, you stupid-"

Anger from before flared into rage.

There was a sharp slap and and a swish, and suddenly Maloof held the nail gun in his small hands.

"Y-You slapped me…"

Maloof smiled to himself. Maybe he should try this 'angry' thing out more often.

"I'm gonna MURDER you, you stupid mother f-"

_Thunkthunkthunkthunk._

He slept soundly for the first time in months.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Constructive criticism is always welcomed with open arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Look, I know it's been almost two years, but I decided to give this story another go now that I have some fresh ideas in my mind and some time in my hands. So old readers, I hope you haven't given up on me. New readers, I do hope you enjoy the story.

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, slight language

* * *

Mikhail groaned. His mind was a blurry mess of hairless bears and vodka bottles. For what seemed like the seventh time that morning, he leaned over the toilet and retched. The sensation was unpleasant yet almost nostalgic. The time he spent in his homeland was frequently accompanied by the comfort of alcohol. The academy's strict no-alcohol policy had reduced him to a lightweight. Every chance encounter he could snag with the illustrious liquid left him hugging the toilet in a way he had not done since he was ten. That did not discomfort the Russian. What did discomfort him was the impending altercation if the boy in the other room woke up. Mikhail knew Boss' thoughts on the matter and it wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Drained and exhausted, Mikhail shakily flushed the toilet and let himself fall back onto the tiled floor.

Someone in the doorway cleared their throat. Shit.

Mikhail's eyes snapped open and came face-to-face with a groggy-looking Italian. Besides the rather feminine silk pajamas, Maloof wore an intense stare. Mikhail was spared from its full effects by his blurry vision. What he didn't see were the tears.

Mikhail pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Bo-I mean, Maloof…"

Maloof's gaze never wavered. "I suppose we both had an interesting night."

Mikhail sat up and a shooting pain rang through his head. There was no way he could function in any of his classes today.

"Boss, I am idiot, like weakling. No self-discipline. Will never happen again, promise. See this?" He pointed to his head. "Nothing up there. Like empty pool. Is why I need you to keep me in line."

He laughed weakly, hoping to lighten the situation.

Maloof didn't smile.

"Is that it?"

Mikhail hesitated before nodding. He couldn't bring himself to apologize and to tell Maloof his feelings were important to him. His people were strong and stoic. To reach them, one would have to bypass the obstacles of pride and ego. When Maloof cried on his shoulder and spilled his feelings, he could only provide the comfort of silence.

"Well, I have some things to say. Last night while you were out doing god knows what; I stood up to the one person who made my life here a living hell. I slapped that stupid nail gun out of his hand and I nailed him to the wall!" Maloof's voice was breaking and it was hard for him to continue. "I was so proud of myself. I-I thought my best friend would be proud of me too. But he wasn't there..."

Mikhail was stunned. He stood up and put his hands on Maloof's small shoulders.

"You stood up to bully? One who made your life living nightmare? How was it? Did he cry for mommy?"

Maloof shrugged him away.

"Who was it with?"

Mikhail paused. "What?"

"Who did you drink with last night?"

"Does not matter, Tiny Boss."

"Matters enough that you let me walk back to our room by myself when you know what Bobby is capable of! It matters enough that you don't care that you hurt me when you do this. More than that, you know alcohol dampens your psychic abilities. Do you know how much your grades suffer after you get back into this habit? Whatever, I guess I'm going to class by myself today."

Maloof stormed out of the bathroom presumably to get dressed. Mikhail could hear clothes being furiously thrown across the room.

Sighing heavily, the Russian heaved himself off the cold floor to get himself dressed as well. He would work his way through his classes. He didn't want to disappoint Maloof any further. He also hoped the empty feeling he had in his stomach was just from a lack of food.

Mikhail opened his dresser and was greeted with the sight of grays and blacks. Mikhail hated most colors, much to the disdain of Maloof who tried to get him to wear colors on countless occasions. He pulled on a fresh black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He tried to flatten his dark hair that hung in a mess around his face. He didn't know much about hair, due to wearing that stupid hat for most of his life. He looked over at Maloof and almost chuckled. He was meticulously combing his auburn curls with the angriest face Mikhail had ever seen.

"Tiny Boss, why are you coming so hard? Afraid you will look like Bobby?" Mikhail quipped.

He was met with a pink shirt flying at his face, which he expertly dodged.

Maloof grabbed his backpack and was out of the door before Mikhail even had his boots on. If he didn't hurry, he'd be late.

* * *

Their first class of the day was undoubtedly the most boring, in Mikhail's opinion. Psychic healing with practical first-aid. How foolish it seemed to Mikhail. Wounds build character. They make a boy into a man! So it was no surprise that one of the class's top performers was Maloof Canola, just below Phoebe Love. Though his psychic healing abilities had yet to be honed, he was a master of bandages and ointments. Mikhail attributed this to Bobby's constant abuse. Yet Maloof always treated Mikhail's many scrapes and bruises from the bears, despite his rebuffs.

Maloof sat next to Phoebe in the front of the classroom, per usual. Normally he would be jittery with excitement to learn, yet today he could not stop the tears from welling in the corner of his eyes. Phoebe rubbed Maloof's back comfortingly as he told her everything.

Last night he made a conscious choice to be strong and overcome his fears. That alone took an unimaginable amount of courage, courage he had no idea was inside of him. It was a stinging blow that the one person whom he idolized for his strength and perseverance would rather get drunk than protect him. Even worse, he would never say he was sorry.

When he finished his story she smiled warmly at him. Phoebe's smiles always made everything a tad brighter.

"Come on, no tears. You're an ass-kicker now, remember? I always knew you had it in you. You don't have to be so dependent on that big dummy. You proved that last night. If he'd rather go out with strangers to get wasted than look out for you, maybe you should rethink your business with him."

Maloof shook his head.

"It's so much more complicated than that, Phoebe. He's not just my business partner and bodyguard, he's my best friend. At least, I thought he was."

"But this isn't the first time he hasn't been there for you, Maloof," Phoebe spoke up, "There have been times when Bobby has hurt you much worse because of Mikhail's bad habits. Never once has he told you he was sorry, yet you've forgiven him all those times because you needed him in your life. You may not think you're ready, but I can show you that you are strong and capable of defending yourself better than he ever could."

"I'll say," said a voice behind them, "Boss hasn't so much as raised his voice to me since you opened up a can of ass-whoop on him."

Benny sat in the chair behind them, uncharacteristically alone.

"He wouldn't even get out of bed this morning. I think he was plotting. You can tell when he has something devious going on his head. His hair twitches and you can hear air whistling in his gap. If I were you, I'd watch yourself," he said.

A pair of ghostly psychic hands rested on Benny's shoulders and a voice whispered in his ear, "If I were short puny boy like you, I would give myself wedgie off tall cliff. Then cry for mommy. Do not ever speak to Tiny Boss again, and that goes for big orange poof ball you answer to."

Benny's face went from purple to a sickly gray as the hands picked him up by his shirt and plopped him down on the far side of the room.

Maloof and Phoebe's eyes went wide at the display.

"You did always have the best telekinesis, Mikhail," Phoebe said.

"You try doing that one with a massive hangover," he replied, plopping down in the unoccupied seat.

This was his chance to apologize to Maloof. His ego would take a beating and his manly ancestors would cry in the heavens, but he needed the empty feeling gone from his stomach.

"Maloof, I—"

The door burst open and a portly man sporting a vintage nurse's outfit strutted into the classroom.

"Sorry I'm late class but perfection takes Miss Katz's time!"

Mikhail groaned inwardly. The administration fought endlessly with the German man's insistence on wearing women's apparel in the classroom and shaving absolutely nothing. However, his reputation as best psychic healer in the nation could not be ignored.

Still, the man interrupted Mikhail's apology and he would pay for it with Mikhail's in-class napping. He smiled to himself. Yes, that seemed fair.

As the school day dragged on, all of Mikhail's attempts to apologize to the small boy proved futile. The only thing that kept Mikhail from slamming his head on the desk was his head-splitting migraine. Once classes ended, Mikhail made it a point to get his apology to Maloof whether the small boy wanted it or not. He ended up cornering him in the hallway, his massive figure cowering over the tiny boy. Maloof squirmed and pushed against him but he was powerless. Defeated, he crossed his arms and let out a squeaky "Hmph!"

Mikhail couldn't resist a chuckle.

"Don't laugh at me!" Maloof scolded.

Mikhail smirked. "I cannot help it, tiny princess. You are so cute."

Maloof turned cherry red and beat his fists angrily against the taller boy's chest.

"Hey! Stop that. Misha has something very important to tell Tiny Boss." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Sometimes, Misha does stupid things."

Maloof rolled his eyes. "I'll say."

"And sometimes," Mikhail continued, "Misha does these things without realizing that he hurts Tiny Boss' feelings. He forgets that Tiny Boss is like stubborn princess sometimes.'

"Hey!" Maloof gasped.

Mikhail laughed. "Again, I am kidding. I guess I am trying to make this easier to say. Tiny Boss…Maloof…" He braced himself.

"What, Mikhail?"

"I am…sorry."

The words came out so softly he was unsure of whether he spoke them or they remained in his head.

He looked at Maloof. The anger his face previously held was gone.

"You're…what?" Maloof asked, clearly in disbelief.

"Do not make me say words again."

Just then the tinier boy flung his arms around Mikhail's waist and held on for dear life.

"You said it! You actually said it! You've never said those words to me before. I'm so happy…"

Mikhail looked around nervously. The two boys sharing a hug in the middle of a hallway was a direct threat to his deadly reputation. Luckily, if anyone walked by, he could easily turn the hug into a half-deadly nelson.

Pulling the Italian off him, he said very seriously, "In homeland, public affection is grounds for beheading."

"What! Really?"

Mikhail smirked. "No. I just hate hugs, you drama queen."

"I'm sorry." Maloof paused to wipe tears away from his eyes. "All I've ever wanted to hear from you is an apology, but why now? I mean, you've changed at least on some level. The old Mikhail would never have let is guard down to apologize to me."

"I have been thinking all day about what Phoebe has said about the psychic war. I have not been completely plain with you about what happened yesterday with bears. The earthquake I felt had great psychic force behind it, greater than anything I have ever experienced. Something is coming and the school knows about it. Why you think they have been so hard on us? If this is true, is time for us to abandon our flaws. In time, if I become psychic warrior, my mind must be clear, and yours must be too. We cannot have these rifts between us. We must build our bridge stronger and work together more than ever. I would never forgive myself if I failed again to protect you. And that is why I am willing to change. Boss, are you crying again?"

Maloof wiped his eyes with his knuckles.

"I'm sorry. That's just…like the most beautiful and touching thing I've heard all day. I'm changing too, you know. I might have devious skills in setting traps and devising strategies, but all I want to do is kick some major ass beside my best friend!"

"Oh, Great Bear Wrestler, what a girl. You keep your brains and leave brawn to me."

Mikhail was rewarded with a small fist to the chest.

"Oof!" Mikhail dramatically dropped to the ground. "You have changed! My tiny nurse now abuses me instead of treating my wounds!"

"Oh shut up, you! I'm not your nurse and I am certainly not a girl! I am going to learn how to properly put my foot up someone's ass! Come on, we're going to see Phoebe right now!"

Mikhail grinned. Things were going to be a lot different, weren't they?

* * *

I always leave the door open to constructive criticism as well as lovey-dovey gushing reviews. I have some ideas for the next chapter and things will really start to pick up. Now I ask you, the readers, a question: What campers would you enjoy seeing more of as side characters?


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay. I had actually had this chapter completed for awhile, I just forgot to upload and you know, life got in the way and stuff. So I'm not too sure how many people are reading this. So if you could just drop me a review, even if it's just to let me know you're here, that would be fantastic. The more people that read this, the quicker I will try to get another chapter up. Also, if you have any side characters in particular you would like to see become a bigger part in this story, do let me know. Thanks a bunch!

Warnings: Suggestive language and themes, eventual slash

Disclaimer: I do not own Psychonauts or any of its affiliates, and do not make any money off of writing this story.

* * *

Maloof approached Miss Katz's room with an air of apprehension around him. Many chattering voices resounded into the hallway, indicating a full house inside.

"You are not nervous, are you, Boss?" Mikhail asked.

No doubt he had noticed Maloof's change in pace and gait. For someone who barely showed his emotions, Mikhail could always detect the subtle nuances in Maloof's body language. Maloof never had to announce his emotions outright, though he often did, for Mikhail to be aware of them. It made it nearly impossible for the Italian boy to lie. Maloof stopped outside of the room and breathed deeply.

"Er, yeah, a little." Okay, more like a lot.

"Do you not want to be strong like bear?" Mikhail exclaimed loudly with his arms wide. "DO YOU NOT WANT TO BECOME ULTIMATE MASTER OF DEADLY NELSON?"

The voices in the room promptly died. Maloof could've fallen over dead right there. Mikhail caught him by the collar as he tried to run away and dragged him into the room.

The desks inside had been arranged into a half-circle and were full of many recognizable forms. Luckily, Maloof saw neither Bobby nor Benny in the mix. Miss Katz sat with his feet up on the desk looking rather apathetic to the noisy psychics. He appeared more interested in filing his pedicured toenails.

Quentin Hedgemouse approached the two with a smiling face and open arms. His signature striped scarf, which he aptly named "The Love Cocoon," also appeared to be beckoning them.

"Bros! So glad you could make it. Oh man, this is almost a full house of loooooove. Come here, dude."

He enveloped Maloof in an awkward bone-crushing hug, the creepiness increased two-fold as The Love Cocoon rubbed his back with its long thready fingers. Ten seconds into the hug with Quentin showing no intention to let go, Maloof found himself wishing for death once more.

"You're so warm, bro. That's love right there, man."

Maloof words came out in strangled gasps. "I—hngh, I-I just…ergh…"

It was hard being suffocated by love.

"Hedgemouse would like to feel love of spinning headlock elbow drop, no?" Mikhail asked, attempting to pull the frightened boy away. Quentin retreated reluctantly and put an arm around Phoebe who just joined the group.

"No thanks, man. That sounds painful. But that's why we're all here. We have to move past our aggressive tendencies and embrace the good energy once we find our truest selves. Isn't that right, love-muffin?"

"Absolutely, sugar-cake!" Phoebe kissed Quentin on the cheek, then turned to the duo. "I am so happy you guys came. I have a lot of great new techniques I've discovered this past month and I need every mind possible to help me hone them!" She explained excitedly.

A tiny shriek was heard as a figure burst into the room and slid onto his knees in front of Phoebe.

"Nils!" She gasped.

The entire room became silent again as Nils put on the most pathetic display in the history of all pathetic displays, ever.

"Oh god! Please help me, Phoebe! Ever since you set my hair on fire the chicks won't even look at me!" He grasped at his scalp, which resembled a barren field full of dead grass. "It was the only thing that kept me going! It was my mojo, my love nest! You can fix that, right? You said you could heals flaws so I just thought that…Oh please, Phoebe! The lack of female attention is slowly driving me insane!"

Miss Katz looked up from his desk. "Did he just call his hair a 'love nest'?"

Just then, a dark shadow appeared in the doorway and growled. Nils's eyes went wide.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh—"

"NILS FRANCIS LUTEFISK! What the hell are you doing? I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Elka! I was just…I was…uhm—"

Nils stumbled backward frantically as she stomped closer. Only a squeak escaped his mouth as she lifted him up by the collar and began to drag him out.

"I told you I would always love you, Nils Lutefisk!" She cried. "Even if you had the shiniest bald head in the world! I would floss my teeth looking into your beautiful chrome dome. Now let's go hold hands and have deep conversations with each other, you stupid shithead."

Nils could not resist making a "call me?" gesture at one of the female attendees before was he pulled away into a hell of wholesome and sex-less activities.

An awkward silence permeated the room. Phoebe turned to the stunned students to address them.

"Um, I would like to begin this whole thing, I guess, by saying that if you're here for superficial or unrealistic reasons, you have been misled and you should leave. There is no psychonaut in the world who can mold your physical appearance through psychic ability alone. If your nose is too big or your chest too flat, that is something you must either accept or shape through means other than that of the mind. Our flaws aren't just physical, but mental too. These are the flaws that we can change. We all have at least one thing inside of us we would like to change. Whether we have addicting habits that control our lives, or phobias that keep us from living them, I feel we may have discovered a way to root out these mental burdens and hinder them…through psitanium."

Shocked gasps and whispers traveled through the crowd of psychics. Phoebe expected this. The applications of psitanium were hotly debated and controversial ever since the rock that brought the psychoreactive mineral crashed to earth years ago.

"That stuff makes you insane!" a voice shouted.

"Nobody's found arrowheads in years," another said.

"Where would we even get it? The location of the mother lode's top secret!"

"Yeah! Where did you get your goggles, Phoebe? Huh? Those things are almost pure psitanium!"

Phoebe waved her hands nervously to try and calm the unruly psychics. This was not going as planned.

"SILENCE!"

A nail file flew across the room and embedded itself inside Dogen's tin foil hat. His eyes rolled back into his head while something puddled underneath his seat.

Miss Katz stood up and strut to center of the classroom, his gut swaying underneath the incredibly tight nurse uniform. Several of the students visibly cringed.

"Now," he began in a gruff German accent, "it seems that all of you little spoon-benders need a little history lesson. Psitanium is no longer exclusive to this land. Although still a rare and highly sought-after material in the psychic industry, smaller deposits are frequently being discovered all over the world. Germany, Russia, Britain, South Africa, Japan, you name it. Recent scientific research has discovered that the detectable energy psitanium gives off weakens as centuries pass. Whispering Rock may be home to the largest and newest deposit of psitanium ever discovered, but the true cache may lie somewhere else. The problem is, the deposit is so old and so far beneath the ground, that even the strongest psitanium detector in the world would never be able to find it. Thus, a long string of unsuccessful mining operations have been initiated in the past twenty years or so. Every year the Academy receives dozens billion-dollar bribes from the wealthiest psychonauts all over the world who would just love the chance to harvest all of this psitanium for themselves. If rumors are true, there's enough psitanium here to turn a person into a powerful god transcending all psychonauts, or the craziest human being on earth. It's powerful stuff kids, that much is true. However, I have come across some interesting findings about this material. Phoebe, my darling love star, would you like to continue?"

Phoebe perked up upon hearing her name called.

"Yes! Well! These past two years I've had the opportunity to carry out some independent research alongside Miss Katz concerning psitanium. Before Miss Katz came here from Germany to teach, he was the head of the research department of a psitanium health institute."

Miss Katz took a few gratuitous bows.

"He was granted 200 grams of psitanium mined from a crater site in Leipzig to carry out research for the applications of psitanium in mental health. My goggles were made partly from this psitanium sample. Credit goes to Quentin for making these lovely things."

Quentin's scarf covered his face to conceal a blush.

"What happened after I tried the goggles on for the first time was amazing. Not only did it control my tendency to randomly set things on fire, when I looked at the sample of psitanium through the goggles, it gave off a white glow. Miss Katz allowed me permission to use a psycho-portal to explore his mind with the goggles, and we discovered that psitanium that emits a white glow allows the user to perceive many other colored auras around objects inside of the mind. The color of the aura depends on the type of emotions and values that the mind in question places on the objects. We haven't quite gotten all of the colors figured out. But the objects related to the inner qualities that someone detests or would like to change about themselves glow a dark purple, almost like poison."

The student's eyes went wide with amazement.

"I, for example," Miss Katz started, "though being a nearly flawless and fabulous human being, am completely and utterly distrustful of just about every psychonaut I've ever come in contact with. Psychonauts these days have their priorities completely out of order and the world is going to hell in a hand basket because of it. They would rather use their powers to their own selfish advantage than help their nation thrive with good deeds. Even members on my old research team horded the psitanium they were granted to further their own powers. My distrust had become so great that many friendships that I built up over the years crumbled down. In my mind, Phoebe saw burglars breaking into houses and coming out of them with bags full of psitanium, their faces sharing the same smug, satisfied grin that all of my old friends once wore. All of them took on the same dark colored aura. When Phoebe approached one of these burglars, with my supervision of course, they appeared to become paralyzed. Her psitanium goggles that gave off the white glow counteracted the dark glow of the objects in my mind. If we had more students to test this out on, we may be able to figure out how to eliminate these dark objects completely, thus curing the affected individual of the specified flaw."

Everyone began to excitedly chatter amongst themselves.

"Now that I think about it, I care about more about my shoes than I care about my friends," Kitty mumbled sadly.

"Hey!" Franke cried, "Well, I guess I could learn to be a little more independent…"

"Maybe we can figure out my intense phobia of squirrels and mainstream television," Dogen said.

Milka looked down at her shoes. "I do get insanely jealous every time one of those stupid hoes looks at Elton the wrong way. And I've never exactly been confident in my own skin…"

Maloof sighed. He felt he had too many flaws to admit out loud.

Clem Foote waved his arms. "Hey, guys! It's gonna be okay. O-K-A-Y! Our flaws aren't all that bad…Oh who am I kidding?"

He looked over at Crystal who nodded.

"We're the ones who try to kill ourselves after every negative comment thrown at us. Fake happiness only tricks the mind for so long." She sniffled.

"Guys, guys, guys! I'm not trying to make you feel bad about yourselves or discourage you! We're giving you the opportunity to take part in something that might allow you to become the best psychonauts you can be. What's more, we can use the information we gain from your mind to benefit the entire world!" Phoebe explained.

"Guys, my head feels really funny!" Dogen cried.

A sudden vibration rattled the floor sending the students to scramble under their desks.

"Don't panic, children!" Miss Katz yelled while assuming the standard psychonaut battle-ready position.

The room continued to shake, sending books and picture frames flying and the children screaming.

Maloof began to shut down. Natural disasters and their hypothetical outcomes were constant triggers of his panic attacks. His heart raced in his chest and he began to hyperventilate as his body entered fight or flight mode. 'Oh my god,' he thought, 'I'm going to die of panic before I die of this stupid earthquake.'

He hugged his knees and braced himself to face death at the hands of his own gripping fear. Just then, he felt a warmth envelope his body. He opened his eye to find two pale arms wrapped snugly around him.

"M-Mikhail?" He called out.

"Is okay, Maloof. I made promise that I would not let anything else hurt you. Will be over soon, just calm down."

Maloof held onto Mikhail tightly, shut his eyes, and hoped this wasn't the end.

A few torturous minutes passed before the tremors began to subside. The room slowly became still again but no one dared move. A shrill alarm rang over the intercom to indicate in an incoming message.

"Attention students, staff, and administration. A small-scale earthquake has occurred several miles outside academy grounds. What you have just experienced is the aftershock. There is no cause for alarm and you may now return to your normal activities. We apologize for any inconveniences this may have caused and all injuries should be reported to the nurses' station immediately. Thank you."

The students all let out sighs of relief began to emerge out from underneath their desks.

Kitty pressed her palm to her forehead. "I feel woozy."

"Me too, guys, W-O-O-Z…I'm just gonna go vomit now," Clem said.

"It's those stupid butthead squirrels! They all want us dead!" Dogen yelled.

"Regular pansy-wansy earthquake aftershock my ass," Miss Katz grumbled, "That crap had some serious psychic energy behind it. Something fishy is going on here."

Mikhail stood up. "So when can we start?"

"Tomorrow. Children, do your homework, get a good night's sleep, be kids, and report back here after your classes. Much is to be done in a short amount of time, it seems. I need time to think. Class is dismissed."

On their way out of the door Mikhail said, "Let us go to library. I need to do some research."

Mikhail? Research? Reading? Library?

Maloof would have burst out laughing, but he had too much weighing on his mind. He simply nodded. He had homework to do anyway.

The library was the architectural gem (read failure) of the academy. A gargantuan tower stacked miles high with texts containing every facet of psychic knowledge. No ordinary ladder could be used to scale the round walls of this library. Hopefully your levitation skills were up to par, or you knew someone whose skills were. A sick practical joke instated by the librarians, they placed the books of any real use all the way at the top. One could spend hours bouncing up and down on a levitation ball trying to pull the one book they wanted off the shelf. Luckily for Mikhail, he had the best telekinesis in the school.

Stealthily passing by the library aide, who was carelessly immersed inside a gossip magazine, Mikhail managed to remove one of the hair pains out of her bun. He passed it to Maloof.

"How is your clairvoyance, Boss? I need to know where all the books are that tell you about all the boring stuff that has ever happened ever about anything at all in Whispering Rock."

"You mean history books? I can try." Maloof closed his eyes and focused on the hair pin in his hand.

In his mind the books became large chunks of color, all labeled quite expertly by the uninterested library aide.

"It seems that 'long, boring-ass history books about this lame place' are all the way up there in...Section D row 37," he concluded. "Why do you need books about that anyway?"

"In time, Tiny Boss," Mikhail said.

He guided his hand of telekinesis to pull several books off of the shelf.

"Let us see. The Shaky Claim Crazies."

No.

"Hm, Thorny Towers: A History of Crazy."

Big deal.

"The Milkman Conspiracy."

Uh, what?

"Wait, what's this one?" Maloof asked, pointing to the last book in the stack. "A Geographical History of Shaky Claim."

Mikhail shrugged. "May just be of use."

Maloof felt like he had been staring at the same page for an hour. Too many thoughts were running through his head. Plus, the foundations of pyrokinesis made always made him nauseous. Once he had to set paper on fire for an exam, and ended up igniting his own pants instead. He looked over at Mikhail with weary eyes and yawned.

"Find what you were looking for? Which was um…what was it again exactly?"

"Book is large. Perhaps too large for brain. But listen to this. Says Whispering Rock and land around it does not lie on top of any subduction zones or fault lines. No earthquakes have ever been recorded in the area. The earthquake could not have occurred only few miles outside of the academy. It must be linked to vibrations I felt near GPC. Strong psychic energy behind both."

Maloof closed his book. "But why would the academy try to cover something like that up?"

"Who knows? Phoebe girl is having visions, you are having visions. Obviously giant shitstorm is in air. Academy knows we are just babies. Even oldest of us, like you and I, are still years away from being considered for psychonaut licensing. Academy thought it had more time, and now realizes it has none."

Maloof slammed his fists down on the table, earning him a dirty look from the library aide.

"But what did they need time for? What is coming? And why is it coming? I'm sick of having these stupid visions at night while everyone else walks around thinking that nothing is wrong! There are thousands of well-qualified psychonauts stationed all over the world. Why do they need us, kids, so badly?"

"Calm down, Boss. Your inner princess is flaring up again. Besides, I have not all answers. Do I look like library to you?"

"No, but we're in a library and that's got us basically nowhere."

"Fair point. So tell me about visions you are having then. And by visions, I do not mean you fantasizing about yourself in a dress."

"Hey, I have Bobby's nailgun and I know how to use it!"

Mikhail found himself chuckling.

Tiny Boss, big talk.


End file.
